


seven steps away from death

by Celen



Series: deathsong verse [1]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Drama, Famiglia forever, Future Fic, Gen, Italian Mafia, Other, There is only one rule, You do not fuck with the Vongola
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-01-13
Packaged: 2017-11-25 09:27:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/637440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celen/pseuds/Celen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a sunny Wednesday afternoon, Tsuna gets shot. His Guardians retaliate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	seven steps away from death

 

Oddly enough, it is the ice cream vendor’s horrified expression that catches Tsuna’s attention as he falls, not the screams, the sudden strikes of thunder, or the sound of a car speeding away. He spares little thought on the bullet lodged in his chest (and some part of his mind is screaming at him that no, it’s not a good thing to get used to being hit by a bullet, be it a special bullet or no) or the blood pouring out of his wounds (again, something he shouldn’t be used to but is); instead, he attempts a shaky smile and thinks, amused, that at least he didn’t wear his favourite shirt today, because bloodstains are a bitch to get off.  
   
It was supposed to be a completely normal Wednesday afternoon (or, as Tsuna thinks wryly, as normal as any day in the Vongola family can be) and he was walking with Lambo and I-Pin, to take them to some gelato, when a shiny, black M3 suddenly skidded to a halt behind them and men in sunglasses and immaculately pressed suits jumped out. All Tsuna had to see was the barest glint of a gun barrel, aimed straight at his 13-year-old Thunder Guardian, and his body moved on autopilot, throwing Lambo aside just when the gunshot rang out.  
   
As the thin veil of velvety black obscures his vision (and really, the concrete feels like feathers compared to Byakuran’s _White Finger_ or Xanxus’ _Scoppio di Ira_ ), all Tsuna can think is _sorry, Reborn_ and _I did my best_.  
 

* * *

  
   
Gokudera is slouched over his desk, pouring over the numbers in the recent financial report when his phone starts beeping. He rummages through his pockets almost absent-mindedly, searching for it (and really, those three odd figures must be the reparation fee the Foundation demanded after the lawn-head had decided to blow a hole in Hibari’s cellar in his attempt to get out, what an idiot), but when he notices the caller ID, he drops all thoughts of numbers and Sasagawa and thinks that no, not now, why did I let him go alone. He presses the answer button but doesn’t get to say anything when I-Pin’s speaking at lightning speed, about Sawada-san and guns and men and black and help.  
   
Inwardly, Gokudera curses in all the languages he knows, curbing the blind panic rising inside him when he realizes just what has happened (Tenth, oh sweet Jesus, _Tenth_ , why didn’t you let me go with you, I would have protected you, I don’t care about bullets, please, _please_ be alright) but he steels himself, takes a deep breath and calmly starts drilling the smallest details out of the frantic girl on the other end of the line, while jotting down everything, connecting it with what he knows (the boss of the Terranova family is fond of German cars. They failed to get the arms deal through last week.) before promising I-Pin to send help, except that Reborn-san is on his way already so more help probably isn’t necessary, and hanging up.  
   
Hands trembling, he lights a cigarette and prays silently to a God he doesn’t believe in to save the only person who, to him, shines brighter than the sun.  
   
Then, Gokudera springs into action: punching numbers into his phone, finding the right folders containing the right information, mapping and planning and forming strategies.  
  


* * *

  
  
Yamamoto is just about to sheath Shigure Kintoki when there is a knock on the door of the Varia’s training room and a trembling voice says,  
   
“Excuse me, Signore Yamamoto, the commander—“  
   
Yamamoto never gets the chance to hear just what the commander had wanted him for when there is a loud yell and the door is subsequently kicked open.  
   
“Oi, you shitty idiot, if I’d known you’re this fucking slow I wouldn’t have sent you here in the first place!” Squalo shouts, loud as ever, and the messenger boy runs away as fast as he can. Yamamoto deems this a wise choice as he looks at the Varia commander standing on the doorway, hair floating around him in a silver mess, eyes blazing.  
   
“Oh, haha, hey Squalo! I was just finishing! Did you want to—“ he trails off, noticing Squalo’s odd expression. Normally, he would have either yelled indignantly or charged at him, so the lack of movement is slightly disconcerting. Then, when he looks closer, he sees the familiar phone clutched in Squalo’s hand. Well. That explains it.  
   
“What is it?” Warning bells go off in his head when Squalo doesn’t immediately answer. Something is wrong.  
   
“Squalo! _What is it_?” Squalo looks at him, unsmiling.  
   
“It’s Reborn.”  
   
At this, Yamamoto stills. Reborn-san would never disturb him when he’s on a vacation, unless it was something important. He holds out his hand, and Squalo gives him his phone, all the while looking at him like he’s as brittle as the wine glass Xanxus had decided looked better thrown at the wall last evening. He tries to smile reassuringly, but he fears his smile ends up looking more like a grimace as he lifts the phone to his ear.  
   
“Reborn-san.” It is as much of a question as it is a greeting.  
   
“Yamamoto.” Reborn-san’s voice – no longer the high-pitched baby voice, but deep and emotionless – greets him. “Tsuna was shot. He’s in the hospital, I called Ryohei, he should be here soon.”  
   
Yamamoto feels his hand tighten into a fist. So this was it.  
   
“Who was it?” _What do I do_ , he doesn’t ask.  
   
“The Terranova family. Gokudera’s on it, Chrome will help him. Hibari will take care of the Sicilian branch, he’s there right now. You take the Italian mainland branches.” Yamamoto smiles grimly, hearing what Reborn doesn’t say: the Vongola family aren’t to be fucked with. An attempt at the Boss’ life will not be taken lightly.  
   
“Okay. I’ll call Hibari for the intelligence.” Squalo is still at his side, watching him with unreadable eyes.  
   
“No. Gokudera will send it to the Varia. Take Squalo with you.” And then Reborn hangs up on him.  
   
When Yamamoto turns to Squalo and explains the situation, all he gets in return is a feral smile that he finds hard not to return.  
 

* * *

  
   
The Cavallone mansion garden is almost empty when Hibari takes his leave. All the hopes of exiting the Cavallone grounds quietly and unnoticed are gone, however, when there is a snap and his wrist is encircled by a familiar whip.  
   
“Going so early, Kyouya?” Cavallone is as infuriating as ever, all bright smiles and cheerful exclamations. He has no time to deal with the stupid horse now.  
   
“Yes. The baby called.” Even though Reborn isn’t exactly a baby, not anymore.  
   
“What, Reborn?” Cavallone’s eyes widen before narrowing. “Kyouya, what’s going on?”  
   
And Hibari has no time to waste, but he knows that sometimes, avoidance only costs him more time, and so he answers in cold, clipped tones,  
   
“Sawada was shot. He’ll survive. Now, I have a mission, so if you’ll excuse me.” Cavallone splutters when he yanks himself free from the offending whip’s grasp.  
   
“But Kyouya, wait, what do—“ Hibari doesn’t let him finish, glaring at him, tonfa in hand.  
   
“Cavallone. There are people I need to bite to death. Call the herbivores if you want to know more. Now, _excuse me_.”  
   
With that, he walks away. He can deal with Cavallone later; now, there are more pressing matters, like 700 people for him to destroy.  
 

* * *

  
   
The basement of the Terranova family Japanese headquarters is eerily quiet as Chrome moves in between the support pillars and storage boxes. The ground is littered with broken bodies, but she pays them no heed as she continues forward. The only sound she can hear is the sound of snakes, hundreds of them, hissing and crawling around her, and the occasional muffled scream of some unfortunate soul who managed to survive Gokudera-san’s earlier assault.  
   
This has been their modus operandi for years now; Gokudera-san’s middle-range attacks work best with the element of surprise, so Chrome uses her illusions to conceal them, then waits until the fighting is over and takes care of the aftermath. This arrangement suits her just fine – she’s never been too fond of fighting, not really, and she knows that it pleases Mukuro-sama to know she’s not putting herself to unnecessary danger.  
   
 _Mukuro-sama_ , Chrome sighs softly. What is he doing now? She could feel his anger earlier, when Gokudera-san, pale as a sheet but eyes blazing feverishly, informed her of the Boss’ condition and what they had to do. Since then, she hasn’t been able to contact him. But, she thinks, clutching her trident in her hands, she can’t afford to worry about him now, not when they still have to take care of the core Family, not when there still has been no word from Reborn-san, no word of the Boss.  
   
The Boss. Chrome hopes he’s alright, not only because she knows what will happen if he isn’t (the Guardians disbanding, the smile gone from Sasagawa-san’s and Yamamoto-san’s faces, the endless despair in Gokudera-san’s eyes), but also because he is the only one, other than Mukuro-sama, who always makes her feel like she belongs. And she wants to keep belonging.  
   
“Do not worry about Sawada Tsunayoshi, my sweet Chrome. He will survive. The arcobaleno will not let him die.”  
   
Chrome turns, only slightly startled, and after a second of searching, finally locks her gaze with a seemingly burned and deceased corpse of a middle-aged balding man, whose eyes are still open and glow in mismatched colours.  
   
“Mukuro-sama.” _Thank goodness_ is what she doesn’t say, but she knows Mukuro-sama will hear it nonetheless.  
   
He laughs softly, as if to confirm her thoughts.  
   
“There is nothing more for you to do here, my Chrome. You can go back now. I will see you later today.”  
   
Chrome nods, relieved, and whispers a soft _thank you_ when she feels Mukuro-sama’s presence fading. Then, she calls Gokudera-san, because she knows that when he gets to where the rest of their targets are hiding, all he will find is more dead bodies.  
 

* * *

  
   
Lambo is uncharacteristically quiet as he sits in the hospital hallway. I-Pin sits beside him, alternating between glancing at him and the door to Tsuna’s room, a worried frown on her face. They are both covered in ash and their clothes are tattered, and Lambo is dimly aware that there is a gash on his right elbow (Fuuta will complain about it again, he’s sure of that) but he can’t bring himself to care much about that, not when Tsuna…  
   
He sighs for the fifth time in a few minutes and lets his head hit his knees, waving his hand in I-Pin’s general direction, to tell her not to waste her worries on him. He was so sure that after having started his training (Gokudera-shi was all complaints at first, but Tsuna’s insistence that he learn how to properly defend himself and _Hayato, won’t you help Lambo, for me?_ worked like magic and so Lambo started his official training as the Tenth generation Thunder Guardian) he wouldn’t be a hindrance to anyone, that he’d be able to protect, too, and not just be protected.  
   
He can feel his eyes burning, because Tsuna’s hurt and it’s all his fault. It’s all his fault and there’s nothing he can do, except train more and more and more, so that the next time something like this happens, he can be the lightning rod he’s supposed to be, absorbing the damage and sending it back, tenfold.  
 

* * *

  
   
Ryohei is eating dinner with Hana and Kyoko when the kid-who-was-no-longer-kid calls him with the news. He notices Kyoko looking at him, her eyes worried, but he has no heart to tell her about Sawada. Instead, he runs off, shouting some hastily made-up excuses and that he might have to cancel their plans for the evening. The words _Tsuna was shot, his condition is critical, so you better hurry, Ryohei_ ring in his ears as he runs.  
   
He reaches the hospital in record time.  
   
When he runs outside of Sawada’s room door, he notices the kids sitting outside it, I-Pin obviously trying not to cry, Lambo with his head in his hands. Ryohei stops briefly to pat their shoulders and flash them what he hopes is a reassuring smile, before heading in. However, the first thing he sees when entering the room is not Sawada, or white curtains or nurses or medical equipment, but a gun pointed straight at him. A millisecond later, the gun is lowered and he finds himself staring at a pair of pitch black eyes.  
   
“Oh, Ryohei. Good job getting here so quick.” Reborn says it as though he hadn’t been ready to personally shoot him, had he been any slower.  
   
Ryohei smiles grimly as the hitman moves aside, revealing a small bed and the motionless form of his boss resting on it. Sawada looks oddly peaceful, even with the front of his shirt completely soaked with blood. If it were any other person lying there, Ryohei is pretty sure he’d be jumping on the walls, despairing over what would then be an impossible task. But, he thinks, this is Sawada, who is the strongest person Ryohei has ever met, so he simply calls Garyuu out and lets his flames light up the room, to the extreme.  
  


* * *

  
   
The first thing Tsuna thinks of when he opens his eyes is that the lights are too bright. His second thought is that he’s not alone. He tries to lift his head (a futile attempt) and blinks rapidly as his eyes are trying their best to adjust.  
   
“About time you woke up, Tsuna.”  
   
That voice… “Reborn?”  
   
He senses rather than feels someone sit beside him, and then Reborn’s face is in front of him, his eyes obscured by the shadow of his fedora.  
   
“I should just shoot you for being this pathetic, idiot-Tsuna. Haven’t I taught you better?” Reborn cocks his gun, and Tsuna shrieks, despite himself.  
   
“W-wait, Reborn! They were aiming at Lambo, he didn’t notice, I had to do _something_!” And besides, who wants to shoot their student just after he has survived another shooting? Well, Reborn, apparently. Tsuna sighs wearily. He really should be used to this already.  
   
His thought process is interrupted when Reborn’s fist collides with his jaw. “Tsuna. Didn’t you stop to think, even for a second, just why they were aiming at that stupid cow?”  
   
Tsuna pauses his jaw-rubbing at this. Why they were aiming at Lambo? Why Lambo and not him?  
   
Reborn seems to decide Tsuna’s answering process takes too long, and continues, voice monotone.  
   
“They knew you’d try to save him.”  
   
And really, now that Tsuna thinks of it, it all starts to make sense. No one would be foolish enough to try and attack him directly, so they must resort to cowardly acts like threatening his Guardians.  
   
Reborn nods, his expression solemn.  
   
“Yes, that’s it. But, Tsuna, you should remember just why they are called your Guardians. Even Lambo.”  
   
“Why they are… oh.”  
   
“Exacly. Their duty is to protect the Boss.” Reborn looks straight at him, and Tsuna feels like he’s rooted to the spot. Reborn has always been able to make him feel like that.  
   
“Let them protect you, for a change, Tsuna. They aren’t weak. Let them prove it to you.” And Tsuna knows that, knows Reborn is right, as always, but it doesn’t mean he has to like it, and he’s about to say so, but something in Reborn’s expression stops him. If he didn’t know better, he’d say it’s concern, maybe even fear, but Reborn and fear are mutually exclusive concepts so he must be imagining things. Nonetheless, he decides it’s safest to change the topic.  
   
“So… How’s everyone?” Tsuna is almost afraid to ask, knowing that his Guardians wouldn’t have taken the news lightly, especially Hayato. _Oh, Hayato._ He can already feel a headache coming on, just thinking how hard it will be to calm him down.  
   
Reborn just smiles his enigmatic smile. “They’re fine. The Terranova family have been taken care of. Ryohei was just here, it’s not been but ten minutes since he left.”  
   
Big brother was here? Well, that would explain why he’s feeling so much better than he expected. But…  
   
“Reborn? Couldn’t you have, I mean, why did you need big brother?” Reborn looks at him with an unreadable expression, and Tsuna starts to panic. “I mean, you have the sun flames, too, right? So you should, maybe, shouldn’t you, be able to….”  
   
“Yes, I have the sun flames,” Reborn cuts him off. “And I did give you first aid before you were brought here, otherwise you would have bled to death. But Ryohei’s box weapon is made for healing, and he’s your Guardian, so it was obvious that he should do the rest.”  
   
So Reborn had… Somehow, the knowledge makes Tsuna smile widely.  
   
“Thank you, Reborn.”  
   
The hitman looks at him for a moment before his lips curl upwards in an answering smile.  
   
“Idiot Tsuna. You’d be lost without me.”  
   
And really, Tsuna thinks as his door bursts open and Lambo and I-Pin and Hayato and Chrome run to his side, cries of _Tsuna_ and _Boss_ and _Tenth_ echoing off the walls, he probably would be.  
 

* * *

  
   
Beside his bed, Reborn looks at the chaos unfolding in front of him and smiles, muttering something that sounds suspiciously like _you make a good boss, Tsuna_ , before turning to leave. And if Tsuna looks at him in surprise, eyes grateful and sparkling with happiness, well, no one needs to be the wiser.  
 

**fin**

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ October 14, 2011.


End file.
